My special day is rather a peculiar one - 22nd January this year (2012) I volunteered, on behalf of Manchester Animal Action, to work at an animal and wildlife-rescue sanctuary in Cheshire. I couldn't believe it, my first time at a sanctuary! I have been meaning to visit a sanctuary for 6 years! I mean, you know what happens - us humans, we say "yeah, maybe", "another time", "next week"... "next month", "some other time" - my time had come!
So, on Sunday, a group of us met at Piccadilly, early in the morning, all having layers of 'warm' on, and packed lunches. It was like a school trip! We got there, had a tour, saw the beauty of the wild, and what a special place. For one example, a foxy lady of a fox, with such ever-so-beautiful fur, was being looked after until she was healthy again, to live independently.
But, mostly this is what made it my special day:
The special day was full of hard work, but this was the best work I had ever done in my life, and I realised, if my special day was working, then that says something, strange, but it shows where my interests are. I had reached my destination. I was working as a bog monster, which translated into human speech, means 'a hard worker that extends a wild pond, by using all the strength known to remove deep deep roots of marsh and wild grow'. Yes, a bog monster!
Here's a poetic insight into what I was doing, what I was feeling...
Bog! Bog! Bog! meant, swishing tools like shovels and forks into deep roots, to expand the pond.
Ponder, made me wonder about the nature around me. We found a rat skeleton! obviously had been eaten, by a bird? For, we spent 5 hours with feet glitched stuck in earth mud, like quick-sand it felt. Having trainers on and many times, nearly losing them to the mouth of the bog pond... feet and socks totally drenched, and that mud, all over my face, my hair, my clothes. I felt physical, uplifted, breathing properly in a crowd of trees and bustling birds with sweet tune. This is the day, where my occupation, was : bog monster! I, bog monster, vigorous strength, like Popeye, I could move any roots, and take the swamp like magic… slowly extending it.
For this, sounds barking mad! Why would best day be getting muddy, swampy, in a bog, working away to create a pond, I ponder, well – that’s the thing. It was real! Most real work I have ever done in my life, with the result that meant helping the wild. It was fulfilling. It was therapeutic. A great day is taking time out to help another, and to be in this environment, nature.
It started to rain.. the rain was light, but cooling, and it fell on top of the pond surface, circling patterns, as if pebble games were taken on. And then, the sun, rose when the rain didn’t fall, amongst the tree tops. A huge orange blob like the blob of mud upon my face, but face was brown. I felt nature, on my back, nature inside me, nature around me. I was in my nature, and this was my nature. It was this day where I felt the true passion for earth! Not to mention, how grateful I was to have pheasants as walking partners, pigs to talk to – these pigs had noses which looked like plug sockets. That being, the day was electric.
When I came back into Manchester, feeling a bit dirty, I felt alive, the happiest I have felt for a long time. Getting stuck in, and letting go, letting the breeze be on your back, the rain light for nice cool, and the sheer quietness of the wilderness, and the sheer wild of knowing where your home is. Nature is in the roots, as the veins, in the body. The body of the world is in me, natural, insane, boggy, but mostly, in touch, in contact, in heart. Such a special feeling.
[I'm the one in the black top, with the brown hair - we are preparing planks to stand on, to avoid drowignign in the bog]
